


From Across The Courtyard

by mageicalwishes



Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Baz, Carry On Countdown 2020 (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown Day 8, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Nervous Baz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mageicalwishes/pseuds/mageicalwishes
Summary: "When I first met him, it was hammering it down. I was rushing to the main door in a desperate attempt to rescue my suede shoes, umbrella snagging against the wind, when I heard it - An impolite 'Oi! Are you new?'"Carry On Countdown, Day 8 - Rain.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027147
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	From Across The Courtyard

**Baz**

When I first met him, it was hammering it down. I was rushing to the main door in a desperate attempt to rescue my suede shoes, umbrella snagging against the wind, when I heard it - An impolite “Oi! Are you new?” 

I don’t know what made me turn to look (I really ought to have just ignored it. It’s best not to encourage such brazen behaviour), but, in hindsight, I’m glad that I did. Because there he was, stood, beaming down at me from his balcony - Shirt wet through and curls clinging to his face limply. Happy as a pig in mud. A sunshine amongst the grey clouds.

“Yes. Why?”

“Dunno. Didn’t recognise you. Could’a been a burglar or something. Gotta’ protect my neighbours, you know?” 

“Yes, well,” I laughed. “I assure you that I’m not. What are you - I mean what are you even doing out here? You  _ are _ aware that it’s tipping it down, aren’t you?” 

“Oh yeah, I love the rain! It’s refreshing.” 

Of course. One of  _ those _ people. 

“It’s irritating,” I argue. 

“Alright, Mr Grumpy. You best be getting inside then. Wouldn’t want it messing up your hair, would we?” 

“Definitely not. And please,” I scoffed. “Mr Grumpy is my father, I’m just Baz.” 

“Well then,  _ just Baz, _ it was nice to meet you. I’m Simon, by the way. In case you care. I’ll see you around sometime, yeah?” 

And ‘see me around’ he did. I made sure of it. 

Blessedly, our talks quickly became routine. Every time I heard the pitter-patter of rain against my window, I’d wait patiently by my adjacent balcony until he came stumbling out of his flat, smiling as he was willingly drenched. 

I’ll admit, that the first time I was petrified. He’d never  _ actually _ invited me to do it, I just couldn’t see another way to initiate anything. I didn’t have his number. ‘Simon’ wasn’t enough to find him on any social media (I checked). So, I cast my pride aside, donned my most dapper Burberry coat, opened up my umbrella, stepped out into the wet, and braved the potential embarrassment of rejection.

And luckily for me, it worked out spectacularly. 

After that, it became our normal. For months, every time it rained we’d talk, no matter when - Night or day. For minutes or hours. It was ridiculous really - Constantly skiving off of studying to talk about which flavour of ice-cream was the best, or listen to him rant about his lecturers - but I didn’t regret it. I lived for it. I _longed_ for it. Our conversations the undisputed highlight of my, admittedly, rather low year. It got so bad that, on my weaker days - When the weather was particularly uncooperative - I found myself casting a **_‘Raining cats and dogs’_** just so that I would have an excuse to see him again. 

There was no point trying to deny it - In our time together, I’d fallen hard for him. Irreparably so. (And yes, I am aware of how disgustingly pathetic that is. But I couldn't help it). He was a charming constant in my life, sweetening my days with his infectious laugh and warm, speckled skin. And I was lost to him. 

So, when he didn’t show up today, I panicked. The last time we’d spoken, I’d made the mistake of mentioning Lamb (In some weird, desperate, definitely-not-as-subtle-as-I thought-it-was attempt to let him in on  _ that _ little secret). And now he’s gone, and I’m left staring out of my window, taunted by the yellow glow of his lights. He’s home. He’s there. It’s raining - Has been for a while now.  _ Clearly, _ I’ve screwed up.

Before I have even taken the time to stop and think about the many, much more logical reasons that Snow may not be out, I’m shoving on my shoes, and hurrying over to his door. Knocking with no idea what I actually intend to say. It was a risky boundary to try and cross uninvited, but there was no turning back now.

When he swung open the door, cheeks flushed and covered up to his elbows in dough, the humiliation hit. His face tilting into an amused smile, as I stood, gawping like a brainless guppy. 

“Oh, Baz, it’s you! Is everything okay?” 

He was still smiling, which was a minor comfort. But that didn’t change the fact that this was one of the most  _ atrocious _ ideas I’ve ever had. 

“Yeah, I just - Sorry. I don’t know, I thought something had happened. It’s raining and you weren’t-”

“Oh, nah nothing is wrong. I just didn’t notice. I was baking so I was a bit distracted.” 

“Right. Yeah. Of course,” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I avert my eyes and stare down at his horrifically muddy Nike’s. _ So fucking awkward. _

“Did you want-” 

“I can leave.” 

“Oh yeah,” he smiles. “If you like. You don’t have to though.” 

“Alright. Uh … Actually, I was wondering whether you would like to go for a walk with me?”  _ Oh shit, shit shit. Why in Merlin’s name did I say that? _

He tilts his head, confused, like a bloody Golden Retriever. And it’s painful how endearing I find it. 

“In the rain?”

“Yes. Unless that’s a problem.” 

“Nah. Not for me. But, I thought you didn’t like the rain.” He smirks at me, pleased, as if he’s gotten me all figured out. Which, in fairness, maybe he does - I’ve been doing a _remarkably_ bad job at hiding it, as of late. 

So, I just shrug (A ghastly habit I’ve picked up from him), and force myself to look back up, bringing forwards every ounce of confidence I have left. 

“I’m learning to.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed :) Comments and kudos, appreciated.  
> My Tumblr: [Link text](https://mageicalwishes.tumblr.com/)  
> Inspired by THIS random Quora page I found lol: [Link text](https://www.quora.com/How-do-people-feel-in-a-rainy-day-Any-Romantic-stories-out-there)  
> 


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